Sniper's Rook
by Not2BForgotten
Summary: The team chases a Sniper in New York with an odd pattern when the sniper decides to play games with them. Reid Whump of course. Sequel to The Papercut Murders and 3rd in my Bad Penny Series.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I was going to wait until I had a few chapters of the story after this one(yes there's even more to come) but I can't help myself. I miss all your great reviews! More Reid whump, though this story came out a little different than what I'd expected. Eagerly awaiting your reviews!**

Chapter 1

Heat washed over the city like a swarm of locust. He waited patiently watching the world move around him. No one noticed him as he sat still as a statue. He loved the thrill of being unnoticed like a leopard in the grass selecting its antelope to devour. Mother's with their children on their way to the geyser fountain to cool down, business people over dressed running to escape into the air conditioning again, and an ice cream vendor circling the park court another predator circling for prey.

"Pistachio gelato if you would please." He savored the cold with the hot and pulled his fedora farther over his eyes. No one noticed as he sauntered into the newly constructed building, still awaiting the painters, closed off from the public. They were all too busy fleeing the heat. He was in no hurry as he climbed the stairs to the twenty fifth floor and wandered from room to room until he found the window perch that felt like home. He hummed while he set up the tripod. He handled the rifle with loving tenderness careful to check that each part was pristine before he put them together. "Hmmm, which one, which one?" he sung peering through the scope at the little ants below waiting for him to fry them. It wasn't going to be that easy though. He hadn't found the perfect combination. It had to be right. It was twilight by the time it felt right. He cut a perfect little square out of the new glass and set the rifle onto the sill. He took slow deep breaths savoring the sweet summer air and cracked it mercilessly with four bullets.

Reid sat crossed legged in silence surrounded by a stack of books. To on-lookers he looked like a child with a fort of books built up around him. The library was blessedly cold compared to the triple digit weather beyond its doors. He finished one book and picked up another, taking a moment to rub his belly to soothe it. He didn't have a reason why stabbing pains coursed through it. A few minutes later he was halfway through the book and paused to wipe sweat from his face. He was determined to deny his illness to the last. The phone bleeped with a text message disturbing the quiet.

_We got a case, Sniper. _

He sighed disappointed. If it was this hot in the library he couldn't imagine what it would be outside or at the office. It took him no time at all to finish the book then re-shelve the ones he'd finished already. In the parking lot he took a moment to wipe away the sweat with a wet cloth he was keeping in a cooler with ice getting a brief relief from the fever he wasn't accepting existed.

"Good morning my lovelies enjoy the goodies. It'll be better than this case" they sat around the table with cartons of Ben and Jerry's ice cream. Reid had cookie dough carton and was eating him slowly trying to ignore the little needles working through his stomach.

"What've we got today baby girl?"

"Okay, we've got four dead in New York. They were shot between the eyes."

"All the victims are black? Could it be some kind of hate crime?" JJ asked.

"Maybe, the ages don't match up. I mean a twenty-three year old, fifty-five, sixty, and nineteen."

"Do they have any commonalities in life?"

"Well they're similar socio-economic status but so far I'm not seeing any direct connections but I'll keep looking." Garcia clicked away her usual chipper self.

"So a sniper in New York, this is going to be a feeding frenzy with the media." Morgan grumbled. They all hated the buzz of the news reporters.

"Wheels up in thirty." Hotch wasn't in the mood for chatter. He had that ache in his bones he got when a case didn't just go bad but went completely off the rails bad.

"Hey man, you alright?" Spencer startled out of his light doze. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm good. Why?" He sat up again catch the book that had been resting in his lap.

"You're sick. Don't think we don't see it. You've been walking around like you're sixty and don't think I haven't seen those pepto bottles you've been sneaking around all week." Derek reached into his bag snatching the evidentiary half-drunk bottle of Peptobismol.

"Maybe I just like the flavor." Spencer just argued.

"So instead of chewing on some cheap bubblegum for the flavor you drink this stuff?" Morgan shot him a queer disbelieving look.

"Yes." Reid tried to stare him down confidently but sweat dripped into his eye and made him blink.

"Get some sleep or I'll have to tell Garcia." Spencer cringed at the threat. Between the kidnapping by Chaplin and Chadwick she'd been over protective. It didn't matter that he was off all his heart meds and deemed as physically fit as he'd ever been. Reid didn't listen, choosing to finish his book instead. He made it a few chapters before he went running to the restroom and spent the last twenty minutes of the flight vomiting. He washed his face and neck then drank the last half of his bottle. Derek gave him that knowing stare as they exited.

"Shut up." Morgan chuckled.

"Drink plenty of fluids." Spencer accepted the water bottle with a bit of a pout ignoring the inquisitive look the others sent them. Water did help with his stomach when it wasn't making him sick. The heat wave had followed them like an unwelcome visitor.

"Did someone move the bodies?" Reid asked circling the scene. It seemed odd to him.

"No Sir the photos show exactly where they were when they were shot." The local officer confirmed. "Why?"

"It's just odd seeing the victims all in a straight line. Normally a sniper jumps around to different quadrants of the kill zone." Reid elaborated.

"Was anyone able say which direction they heard the shots?" Derek looked up at the surrounding buildings. Any one of them could provide a perch.

"According to witnesses there were not shots. They just dropped."

"No shots at all? Maybe he used a silencer?"

"Could be, if he did it shows some serious premeditation. He's probably highly organized as well."

"Aren't all snipers creatures of organization?"

"The discipline required to become a skilled sniper does tend to require a high level of focus and organization but it's not a guarantee." Hotchner explained. Derek's phone rang.

"Talk to me PG. Alright thanks." He turned to the rest of the team. "There's been another shooting."

"It's only been a day. This guy moves fast."

"How many are dead?" Rossi asked stealing the only sliver of shade.

"Two dead this time, both black again."

"Only two this time, that's odd to go down in kills for a sniper." Hotch mused.

"Maybe his signature isn't about how many kills at a long range but the sequence of kills." Rossi suggested.

"Like he's killing in the sequence of pi?" Reid postulated.

"I hope not, then only Robo-Boy will recognize the pattern." Morgan grumbled making everyone grin, especially with his confused pout at being mocked.

"Reid, Morgan you go to the new scene. JJ you get a press conference ready. I don't want the media running wild with this." Hotch instructed grabbing more water. He watched Reid follow Derek to the car. It hadn't gone unnoticed that he was moving like an old man and the dark circles under his eyes were getting darker. It had been a week of him pretending he wasn't sick and Hotch was giving him until the end of this case before he gave Morgan the go-ahead to use force to get him to the doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: There's nothing more sad then a story without review, but alas, maybe chapter 2 will do better.**

Chapter 2

"I don't like this." Reid grumbled.

"Four people dead at the last scene, two at this, you're not supposed to like it kid." Morgan lifted his sunglasses to wipe the sweat away.

"Not that, it's the pattern that bothers me. It's always in a straight line but the numbers are different." Reid chewed his lip and circled restlessly.

"Any ideas what it means yet?"

"No, but it feels like the answer is right there." Derek smirked watching him huff.

"Do we know where the shots came from, at either site, yet?"

"Not yet but they're still searching for the sniper's nest." Reid moved back to a shady spot rubbing his temple trying to get a wide view of the scene. He licked his lips rubbed his head harder hoping it would make the headache go away. He couldn't seem to get his mind to focus or his body to cooperate. The heat sucked the life out of him making the throbbing worse.

"Nobody heard them again?" He cracked another water bottle downing half of it in one gulp.

"No one saw or heard anything. Once again they just dropped." Reid moved to a new angle this time looking at the buildings. That was another thing that bothered him about these shootings. It was a case of malaise with the facts for him. Nothing about this felt right.

"I'm going up." he called to Morgan after staring at one of the buildings that just seemed to stick out to him.

"Sure, run to the air conditioning! I'm only charbroiled!" Reid waved dismissively at the jest. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for but he started on the tenth floor. He supposed he could find the sniper's nest but he didn't really expect it. The building was empty for the moment. A company had just purchased it but hadn't had a chance to move in their operation. It wasn't until he got to the twenty-ninth floor that he found it. Peering out the window using the binoculars he packed any time they had a sniper case he confirmed it. He pulled out his phone.

"Hotchner"

"Hey Hotch, I've got an interesting fact for you."

"What is it Reid?"

"I'm still at the crime scene with Morgan, in one of the adjacent buildings, and I have a perfect line of sight of your crime scene. This could be where the sniper shot from for the first shooting and it would explain why no one saw or heard anything." He watched Hotch instinctively look up and circle in a search.

"Good work Reid. I'll have someone check if any of the buildings here have a line of sight to your scene." Reid could see Rossi and JJ head towards the buildings.

"If the sniper _is_ shooting from the opposite crime scenes, at this this distance, he wouldn't just be a skilled sniper he'd be among the best." They heard another caller join the conference.

"You were right. I've got a perfect line of sight of Morgan, but I can't see you Reid." Rossi confirmed.

"So he can see the kill zones from the opposite scene but not the sniper's nests. I'm betting there won't be any video footage of him." Reid thought aloud.

"This unsub is methodical and organized. We better catch him soon or we're going to have a high body count fast." Reid rode the elevator back down to the main floor purposefully standing under the air vent reveling in the cold blasts. He wasn't ready to admit he was sick.

"Hey, you've got lunch duty today. Call us in some lunch." Morgan ordered sliding into the car. Reid smiled a little seeing he didn't check the back first finally.

"Chinese it is then." They arrived at the local office, Hotch and Rossi already there. The smell of the Chinese which arrived moments after them was actually enticing to Reid for once.

"Detective Silvis this is Agent Rossi and Dr. Spencer Reid. They've been working the second crime scene." Hotch introduced the agent in charge. She was a petite redhead that barely measured up to Rossi's shoulders.

"Nice to meet you." Morgan shook her hand.

"I'm very glad to have you both. New York doesn't need publicity about snipers right now." She offered a hand to Spencer but feeling sweat dripping down his back and the headache returning he thought it best to limit exposure to the others.

"Studies show a higher rate of bacterial exchange when shaking hands. It's much safer to kiss." He rambled keeping a tight grip on his bag strap. Silvis shrugged nonchalant.

"Alright then." She lunged like a preying-mantis locking lips with him fiercely. He backpedaled fast running into a desk, bending backward trying to escape the kiss but her grip on the hair at the back of his neck prevented it. She broke off as abruptly as she's started leaving him weak in the knees and falling on his ass when he tried to get off the desk again. Everyone stared at them mouths hanging open.

"Silvis, we talked about this." Her superior grumbled standing in his office threshold.

"He told me to, said it was safer." She argued with an impish and feral grin.

"Reid, marry that woman." Derek instructed helping his still stunned friend off the floor.

"Perhaps we should eat lunch and go over the case. I'm sure Garcia sensed a disturbance in the force just now and will want the scoop." Rossi suggested. They all smirked seeing Reid give Silvis a wide berth with Morgan between them as a shield as they gathered around the conference table. The delivery guy began to dole out the food, checking that everything was correct.

"Chow mein..chow mein, who's got the chow mein?" Reid muttered then suddenly spotted it.

"Here it is sir" Reid reached for the box not paying attention and cracked knuckles with the delivery guy.

"Oh I'm sorry." He sputtered.

"It's fine." Reid answered hardly noticing and turned to the case file in front of him. He let the other's lead the conversation while he listened and shoveled the food hungrily. For once, once he got started he found himself starving and inhaled the noodles at twice the speed as anyone else drawing an askew look from Morgan.

"It's been a shooting a day. That's not much of a cooling off period." JJ noticed. They had maybe twelve to fifteen hours before the next incident if the unsub kept to his schedule.

"Could it be a hate crime? All the victims have been black and middle to lower class." Silvis inquired.

"It's unlikely. Hate crimes are usually performed up close and personal like vandalism, arson or beatings. To use something as impersonal as long distance snipes for a hate fueled crime his extremely rare." Reid piped in suddenly.

"It's more likely a revenge or mission oriented killer that loves the thrill of watching his victims without them knowing but may lack the social skills needed to get up close to his targets unnoticed."

"Whoever he is he likes to play god. We gotta catch this bastard before he kills anyone else." Silvis swore her rant interrupted by Spencer bolting up and running to the nearest restroom, a hand clamped over his mouth tightly, leaving everyone staring for a moment. "I scare him that bad?"

"He's been ill lately." Hotch explained.

"Glad I chose the safer introduction then." She concluded drawing another firm glare from her superior. Attention turned back to the case for another ten minutes without Spencer until Morgan excused himself to check on the kid. He found him slumped against the stall wall looking sickly, pale, and miserable.

"You gonna live?"

"Do I have to?" Morgan hauled him off the floor and guided his wavering frame to the nearest sink.

"Sorry but yes. You've been sick a while now. Have you seen a doctor?"

"No, I'm fine" Reid ran a cold wet paper towel over his face and neck feeling a little relief.

"Sure, you've had a fever and been vomiting all week but yeah you're peachy." Reid groaned.

"Don't mention…food." he turned another shade of green.

"Well you do have some luck. The pretty girl already kissed you."

"It was more like a mauling." he followed Derek out of the bathroom not really feeling ready to resume functionality.

"It's going to be great telling Garcia tonight." Spencer moaned with dread.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! They make me very happy! goldspy I hope you feel better soon!**

Chapter 3

A breeze had picked today. He could tell by the flag gently wafting in its wake. No one knew he was here. They should have seen him but they hadn't noticed. It gave him a thrill that he could sneak through so easily. They practically begged for their fate. He was in no hurry as he sat in secret watching them through his scope. He had been here for several hours already waiting for the perfect set but it hadn't happened yet.

"Oh look at the darling FBI agents." He followed Morgan's movements in his crosshairs licking his lips and teasing the trigger. "Not yet my friend, not yet" he whispered. He grinned again shifting his attention to a tall schoolboy following Derek. He knew he was working for the FBI despite his age. It intrigued him. The boy was an anomaly to the standard. He watched the rest of them file away motionless. An hour later he let the first bullet fly.

"Reid…..Reid…up an at em Reid." Spencer groaned at the shaking. He rolled over trying to escape back into sleep pulling a pillow tighter too him but the annoyance followed.

"Give up kid, there's no escaping." Reid frowned half asleep confused and concerned suddenly hearing Derek. If that was Morgan just now then who was above him shaking him? It niggled at his fevered mind enough to look at the culprit. Silvis hovered dangerously close over his own face, her red hair a massive fuzzy beast ready to maul him. He would never live down the high pitched squeal he issued as he went flying off the bed in a heap of bedding and pillows.

"Heart of a lion this one. Where did you find the school encyclopedia anyways?" She backed off while Reid scrambled to collect his composure. His ears were flushed scarlet seeing her scrutinizing his train pajamas.

"He followed us home. Then Garcia fed him." Reid leered going nearly purple.

"It happens. It's the puppy eyes." Reid crumbled and fled into the hotel bathroom chased by the giggles.

"So what brought you here?" Morgan asked waiting for Reid to get dressed. The kid had slept through Silvis waking him first.

"Another shooting, five dead this time, it's our sniper again." The sound of retching reverberated from the bathroom making them cringe. "He gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, he'll pull through but we better keep the windows cracked and keep him in the backseat during drives." She grinned.

"Were the dead all in a row again?" Reid emerged from the bathroom disheveled and unhealthy looking but dressed.

"Yes, they were."

"Maybe we should leave you at the office today. He pressed a palm to his forehead then peeled his eye open further until Reid batted his hand away.

"I'm fine."

"You look like a fresh risen zombie." The boys looked at Silvis. "There's an E.R I know some people that work there. I can get him rushed through and on his feet again."

"Great, I've been trying to get him to one over a week now."

"I'm right here you know."

"He's been like this over a week? Why didn't you drag him into the doc sooner?"

"Those puppy eyes again, and we had a case that kept him busy."

"Well that won't work with me. It's our first stop today."

"I'm right here you know." Reid whined as they dragged him into the elevator.

"Quiet, drink this until we get you checked out." He sneered at the bottle of Peptobismol but obeyed overpowered by the growing headache and nausea.

An hour later and he was back at the local office with an offensive orange bottle of antibiotics staring at him. His only defense against it was to stare at his work. He had the maps of the crime scenes taped up to a white board. He felt like a kid in time out. The others were out in the field again. On the other hand he was exhausted by being sick and pretending he wasn't. He didn't care what these strange agents around him noticed, except maybe Silvis. He couldn't explain it but he found himself intimidated and attracted to her, like being drawn towards a deadly predator despite knowing it would eat him alive. He sat back sipping water. The puzzle mocked him. His phone rang.

"Hey Garcia, do you have some information for me?"

"No sweets, just checking in on you. I've been hearing things. You drinking your water and taking those pills?" Reid groaned.

"I'm fine Garcia. I'm drinking my water, taking my pills like a good little boy." He sulked.

"That's good. Now tell me the juicy bits. Tell me about this _woman_ I've been hearing about." He could practically hear her bracing for the gossip.

"It's nothing. They've got an agent that had an unexpected response to one of my facts"

"Unexpected as in pinned you to a desk with a big smackaroo?" she giggled.

"It was Morgan that told you, wasn't it? You don't need to go digging for more details. They're making it sound like more than it was."

"Are you kidding? I don't need their reports anymore. I've got the footage!" Reid pressed his face into his palm. "Talk to me kiddo. You like her?"

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

"No sir baby cakes, so spill."

"Fine, between me and you, yes. There's something about her that I find attractive."

"Well good for you! She looks pretty, and like a handful. That's what you like isn't it? Yeah I can see it. You like that she's a spitfire don't you?" Reid stood and drew the crime scenes with the body markers onto transparencies and overlapped them into one sheet.

"It is nice that she's so different from me. There is some scientific proof that people are attracted to their genetic opposites to assure best possible offspring."

"Easy there lover boy, you're not making babies yet. Wait, are you making babies?"

"Of course." Reid murmured.

"You are making babies? Already? Reid!"

""Wait! What? No!"

"Good, don't go making babies until you know her better. Trust me, a woman like that can be a lot of fun, and I mean a lot of fun, but it can be a lot of trouble if you're not careful." Reid stood back and suddenly it all clicked together.

"That's it."

"You bet that's it. I am the goddess of wisdom!"

"No, no, it's not that. The pattern of the kills, I figured it out."

"What is it?"

"The killer, his kills are all chess moves. The killer is playing chess, specifically the sniper's the rook."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here we go folks first chapter of the new year! Let me know what you think! We're starting to speed things up!**

Chapter 4

"Our sniper is playing chess as the rook. He's calculating and organized. His victimology makes perfect sense. He's playing the black pieces and each person he kills is one move on the chess board." Reid began to the audience.

"He's a male, probably between forty and fifty years of age. We believe this because he is patient. He's waiting for his victims to line up not just in a row but also the exact chess move he's looking for."

"What's the point? What's this guy trying to accomplish?" one of the other agents asked.

"We don't know yet but you make an excellent point. We don't believe the unsub is out for revenge but is trying to accomplish some mission, an end game."

"What could the sniper possibly accomplish killing people according to a chess game? It doesn't make sense." Another agent complained.

"The unsub has a severe god-complex and is probably delusional. The mission only has to make sense to him." Reid clarified.

"Great, a killer that thinks he's god and a plan that will only make sense to him."

"It's important to catch him quickly. He's adopted a fast pace of kills for his plan but if something goes wrong and forces him off script he could go on a spree or even run and start again in a new city." A slew of phones suddenly rang.

"Another shooting just occurred five minutes ago. There's eight dead this time." A flurry of movement erupted preparing to get to the scene and turning down the numerous calls for interviews with the press. JJ had all of them fielded to her taking the pressure off the other agents. The relief could be seen on all their faces not having to deal with the swarming vultures.

"Reid, a moment." Spencer followed Hotchner to an almost quiet corner. "Are you good?" He was concerned about him. He knew Morgan and run him through an E.R earlier but he was still pale and fevered, only able to keep down the cup of noodles he'd taken to eating.

"I'm fine Hotch, good to go." He fidgeted under Hotch's scrutinizing stare.

"Let's get going then. Maybe this scene can tell us what game he's playing." He saw that spark go off in Reid as he walked away. He wouldn't know until the kid got to the conclusion but somehow he'd got an idea fired in his head. The reporters and on-lookers were in a frenzy pushing and pulling for their share of attention as the agents pulled up and struggled to force their way through the crowd. Reid nearly didn't make it through when a reporter grabbed the back of his belt practically dragging him backwards asking for an interview.

"Hey! You do that again and you'll be arrested for assault. You hear me?" Derek growled yanking the reporter's hand off Reid's belt and shoved them back a few steps. He put himself between them and Spencer.

"Take it easy. I just wanted the scoop."

"And how much of a scoop do you think you'll get cooling your heels in the drunk tank?"

"Point taken you don't need to go ape shit on me." Derek went into the building with the others.

"Indoor killings this time, that's different." Rossi noted.

"Why do you think he changed?"

"It could be for the challenge. He's been playing god so far and now he wants to show off." Morgan suggested.

"That fits the profile, and it's the highest body count possible if he really is playing chess." Hotch agreed. He watched Spencer circle the scene, so fresh the bodies were still on site, looking disgruntled. When he reached his epiphany, and Hotch knew he would, it was sure to be a big insight. It was just a question of how long it had to stew in his brain. Spencer moved back to the front glass doors, squinting out against the bright sunlight, feeling the heat radiating from them. His gaze shifted from buildings to his hand drawn schematic of the body placements overlaid with a chess board. He had the moves numbered by their order but it didn't answer all his questions. Were these the moves of one rook or were some of them the second rook? He was trying to figure out which game strategy the sniper was using to play his game. He hoped it would give him an insight to his psyche. It felt familiar to him, like he'd seen or even used it before but there were so many chess strategies it was taking his mind a while to sort through them.

"Hey, I can see the steam rising from your ears. Having trouble?" JJ asked.

"I know this pattern. I know I know it but I just can't seem to think which strategy it is with only the movements of the rook and not knowing if it's one or both." He scrubbed his forehead frustrated.

"Does it matter which chess strategy he's using?"

"Maybe not but if his technique could be complex and highly skilled or aggressive or even amateur, knowing the way he plays could tell us his next move or maybe even end game."

"Have you tried not looking at it for a few minutes? Focus on something else the come back to it with fresh eyes?"

"We don't have the time. He's already killed nineteen people. They deserve more than me taking a break."

"Spence you're doing your best and none of this is your fault. You will outsmart him."

"Outsmart….outsmart….That's it!"

"There we go. The stroke of genius as expected."

"He's using a very advanced strategy. It only has a few defenses against it and is popular because for all but the last few moves of the game it seem like the opponent is actually winning."

"So he's like one of those animals that look like it's defenseless prey until it strikes?"

"Exactly, he's a cunning and dangerous mind." Reid pulled out his phone. "Hey Garcia, I need you to look up chess players, online or in tournaments. He'd be among the elite undefeated or rarely defeated and likes to let his opponent think he's winning for most of the game. Yeah thanks."

"You think he's been practicing his strategy in public chess games?"

"Practicing it, preparing it, flaunting it, I think chess is everything to him." Hotchner signaled they were ready to leave then headed out. Reid swerved away for a moment to throw his empty water in a recycle bin, the last to leave the building. The shot rang out, echoing off the buildings, crowd screaming, agents ducking for cover. Spencer dropped like a rock unmoving.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Have you ever known me to just drop Spencer, really? Haha, I can't possibly be that nice. Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

Chapter 5

"Dr. Reid. Dr. Reid. It's time to get up. I know you're not dead." Spencer groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead trying to suppress the throbbing. There was sky above him, painfully bright, and skin searing hot cement below him.

"Who…is this?" He remembered hearing the loud crack of a bullet and feeling something slam into his chest then his head bouncing off the ground. He felt his vest finding the bullet lodged in the Kevlar suddenly feeling shaken. It was perfect shot to the heart.

"Reid! Reid!" he sat up further glancing over seeing Morgan tucked behind a cement pot with a tree in it staring at him worriedly. People were scrambling and screaming still in a panic. He nodded to Morgan whom looking only slightly relieved.

"I believe you've been referring to me as the unsub, that's the term isn't it?" he felt the back of his head. The skin wasn't broken but there was a rough bump where it had hit. "Why don't you sit up, onto your knees, I'm sure laying there is scaring the other agents. Remember though, I've still got you in my site so don't try anything foolish." Spencer complied, making eye contact with Morgan and Hotch.

"So where does your plan go from here?" he scanned the buildings ahead of him but he couldn't see any sign of the shooter.

"Well that is the question isn't it? Does the malicious sniper have a plan?"

"You have a plan. You've had every detailed organized and planned from beginning to end. You're enjoying watching the F.B.I scramble to catch on to your plan." The unsub chuckled.

"It is a thrill being so many moves ahead of a team that is supposed to be so smart. The best in their field, but you still can't keep up with me." Reid shifted from knee to knee beginning to feel the pressure. His chest ached and he could feel a bruise forming but he thought he got lucky and didn't crack or break any ribs.

"It's not enough though is it? You can't just be ahead you have to flaunt it, rub it in our faces and get all the credit. You made your plan around that basic need for attention."

"Tsk tsk tsk, you make me sound like a silly thirteen year old girl."

"The need for attention is basic in us all regardless of age or gender." He heard the shooter take a deep breath then puff it out.

"It is true. Even the most sophisticated of humans is brought low by the animalistic needs." The second shot jumped everyone's hearts, the agent sneaking towards Reid intent on pulling him behind cover dropping dead a bullet between his eyes. "I know you can all hear me, I'm in your system. Keep away from Dr. Reid! I kill anyone that goes near him!"

"Hey hey, keep talking to me! Just keep talking to me! What's your next move?" Reid shouted trying to get the man's focus off killing. He adjusted again his feet starting to fall asleep.

"Yes, let's keep talking, just you and me. Tell me Dr. Reid, did you figure out the pattern of my kills?"

"Yes I did. You're playing the black rook."

"Very good Dr. Reid, tell me has your father ever beaten you at your chess games?" Spencer went stiff a chill running up his spine.

"What do you know about my father? Are you watching us?" he saw a flurry among his own team acting on the information they were getting listening to his conversation with the unsub.

"Oh come now you make yourself sound paranoid. It only takes a simple hack, not stalking, to know your chess games with your father and the conversation archives."

"You leave my father out of this." Spencer growled trying his hardest to sound menacing. He felt the fool getting only a laugh in response.

"Tell me, every time he expresses he loves you, you never reciprocate, why?" the man pried.

"What are doing? What can you possibly gain from this line of questioning?" he cringed moving off one knee bracing his total weight on the other trying to ignore the growing pain. It had only been twenty minutes and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this position.

"Not all questions satisfy a goal Dr. Reid. Tell me, why do you not reciprocate him?"

"What are you trying to accomplish? What are you going to gain from all this?" Reid continued disregarding the question. The shot knocked the wind out of him, striking him near the diaphragm and knocked him to his back again. He wheezed for several minutes before he could breathe normally again.

"Answer the question Dr. Reid." The unsub insisted. Spencer sat up again, but not to his knees, keeping one tucked under him and the other tented upward. He contemplated ignoring the question again but thought better of it. He couldn't know when the man would lose all patience and hit something besides his vest.

"I don't…don't know if my response is the…same as his."

"Interesting, what could make a son not return the love of his father? Is he not smart enough for you?"

"It's none of your business."

"Excuse me? I am the man keeping you, and all your little friends, in my crosshairs. I hold your life in my index finger. Answer my question!" the calm demeanor slipped slightly.

"No, I'm not going to sit here and let you pick apart my personal life and family." Reid kept his voice resolute the fear tamped down deep inside him.

"I could kill you right now"

"But you won't. You don't want your game to end this soon. You want to play and you want to play with me." There was a tense silence. Reid could see in the peripheral the leer Hotch sent him to warn him against pushing the man too hard too fast.

"Well done Dr. Reid. You're the top of your field for a reason, but enough foreplay. Let's get to the actual game. The trash can to your left, there's a backpack propped against it. Go get it then return to your spot." Reid was sore moving, the bruises beginning to smart, his knees resisting motion. The backpack contained a chessboard with elaborate detail the board and pieces carved form what Reid was sure was a rare and exotic wood.

"Now what?"

"The rules are simple. We play the game. You speak only to me, never to the other agents or your team. For every piece I capture, you take a bullet, understood?"

"I understand." Spencer set up the board in front of him.

"Good, let's begin."


	6. Chapter 6

**A:N: Another chapter for you all! I hope you enjoy! And to clear up the unfortunate confusion, yes, the unsub is hacked into the radio and earwigs for communications.**

Chapter 6

Nearly two hours had passed. Sweat rolled down his back as the heat rose and reflected off the glass building windows making him feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. Morgan was still off to his left where he'd ducked for cover when the shooting first started. Hotch had moved in front of him, close to the base of the building, with a handheld white board for communications.

_Wants to impress you_

_Trying to convince himself he's equal or better than you_

_Seeks your approval_

_Garcia tracking your chess games to find him_

_Hang in there_

He smiled at the newest message. He had complete faith that they would find this guy. It was probably luck on his part that Garcia hadn't already found him through his online chess affiliation. He licked his lips yearning for some water. They were approaching the hottest part of the day now.

"It's your move Dr. Reid. I suggest you take it." He looked back at the board. They were only a few moves into the game despite the amount of time that had passed since they started playing. So far the unsub had not required a succinct pace to their game allowing him to drag it out and give the team time.

"If you want to face the highest level of strategic skill it requires careful contemplation to asses every possible move." Reid chewed his lip nervous. They were closing in on the moment when the first piece would be captured. It was inevitable that the pieces would begin to fall. The sniper had promised to give him a bullet for every piece he lost but he didn't say if it would be in the vest or how severe. He wiped the sweat from his face and rubbed his temples for a moment. A headache had developed ten minutes ago and was rapidly worsening the longer he sat in direct sun, under this stress, without any water.

"Indeed, especially on a day when two strategies are at work, it's time for one of them to proceed. Dr. Reid." Spencer heard the rattle of metal, from a gun most likely, probably the unsub shifting. He closed his eyes for a moment feeling the trap close around him then opened them again and he made his move. The shooter declared his move. Spencer made the adjustment hesitantly. He locked gazes with Hotch both knowing. The bullet ripped through his left hand, braced against the ground for balance, rebounding back out. Reid cried out falling to his side pressing the hand to his stomach and curling around it. He gritted his teeth, trying to gasp through the pain silently. He didn't want to give this guy the satisfaction. He could hear the unsub chuckling and Morgan calling him panicked. He couldn't calculate how long he was slumped over before he shakily pushed himself upright again keeping his hand tucked to his torso still.

"I'm good, I'm good." He struggled to keep his voice steady.

"Don't talk to them Dr. Reid. It's just you and me. I'll let it go this time as it's the first so it was a shock." Spencer gulped. He glanced at his hand which bled heavy and freely.

"That's…very kind. Tell me, do you take…take a bullet when…you lose a…piece?" the man laughed.

"No, I don't take a bullet, and neither do you. That's the pay off."

"What if I win?" he felt a twinge of relief seeing the wound beginning to clot.

"If you are still alive by my defeat then I will surrender myself without further resistance but if you are dead by then I will disappear." Spencer swallowed thickly eager for water and stared solely at the board.

"I should win…quickly then." He grunted at a brief spike of pain.

"So confident in your playing skills, tell me, who was it that taught you to play so well, certainly not your father."

"Why are you so interested in my personal life?" he tugged at the collar of his shirt and undid the buttons that were accessible above his vest. It was getting harder to ignore the heat.

"Don't you find a good conversation focused on one's personal life to be stimulating?" Reid chewed his lip and moved another piece. It wouldn't be long before another piece was to be taken. There was something familiar about the game but his focus on the pain was slowing him down so he couldn't quite place it.

"Not with the threat…of a bullet." Reid snapped.

"Yes but you do have the threat of a bullet, so it would be wise to answer me." Reid held out a little longer but the fear brought by another look to his hand pried an answer out of him.

"J-Jason Gideon"

"He was that profiler; one of the best wasn't he? Whatever happened to him?"

"He…..retired."

"Hmmm, strange for a profiler of his caliber to just quit, did he really simply retire?"

"It's your move."

"Something must have happened and he cracked. Was he weak minded Dr. Reid? Did he simply…run away?"

"It's none of your business, now move." Reid snarled. His nerves were frayed, his hand throbbing until his arm muscles jumped and twitched.

"Oh, I do believe I've touched a nerve there. Bishop to F4."

"So much about me, why not divulge something about yourself." He rankled as the unsub laughed again.

"That's not how this works Dr. Reid. Stick to your game."

"You wanted stimulating conversation. Without reciprocation it's just an interrogation." He closed his eyes resting his forehead on his knee trying to shield out the too bright light and the inescapable headache. He ignored the buzz of the man fighting to get his attention again.

"Dr. Reid, get back to the game or you'll get an extra bullet," He didn't get an immediate response. "or perhaps one of your friends?" Reid sat back up and made his move. "Very good Dr. Reid, now, if you answer my question I'll give you a gift."

"What gift?" his interest was piqued.

Tell me why Gideon really left and I'll let an agent take a water bottle to you. I'm sure you're thirsty out there without any shade for three hours." Spencer saw a new note from Hotch.

_Tell him_

"Agent Gideon…lost someone…he loved to a serial killer….that he was chasing." he divulged reluctantly.

"Very Good Dr. Reid, Agent Morgan may walk you out a water bottle and set it in your reach. You may not speak to him and he may not speak to you or stand in front of you. If he violates any rule another will die."

"Understood." He bit his tongue to keep from talking as he watched Morgan retrieve a bottle, crack it open and start over his way. He looked angry and worried, maybe even a little scared. His movements were stiff from the restraint it took to not dive on him and try to drag him to safety. Spencer sat up opening himself up so Morgan could see the extent of his condition and showed no resistance as he moved his chin about then grabbed the wrist to look at his hand. He took up the water bottle struggling to sip it slowly rather than gulp.

"Hurry it up boys." Morgan sighed. Reid gave him a steady smile hoping to convey he was doing okay for the circumstances but as Derek walked back to shelter he couldn't help feeling incredibly alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: No love from my readers. So sad but still I will post for you! Let me know you love me with reviews!**

Chapter 7

The bullet ripped through his exposed shoulder with cruel intent. He was curled as tight as humanly possible and trembling. The blood running into his vest made his skin crawl. He shivered and his heart raced with adrenaline and shock. He could hear Morgan but he sounded farther away now. His fingers ground into his bicep turning the flesh around the tips white and slowly breaking the skin. He fought to suck in slow steady breaths taking several minutes before he found stability again.

"Reid, talk to us kid."

"Yes Dr. Reid, say something, they need you to verify I did not kill you." He opened his eyes for the first time since the bullet shredded through his left shoulder. He could see the water bottle, half drunk, and the chessboard with his blood sprayed across it now. He found himself unable to look away from his white knight, his own blood dripping down the length impossibly slow. Two of his pieces were taken now, two sanguine bullets marred him. "Dr. Reid."

"I'm….good." he rasped. He couldn't pull his gaze from the pieces feeling the answer to what bothered him about the game play. "Oh." It came to him abruptly.

"Something to say Dr. Reid?" Spencer couldn't answer at first as pain spiked from hand to shoulder and back again stealing away his breath.

"It's so obvious now, the strategy you're using its…"

"Ah-ah-ah, don't divulge details Dr. Reid." The man admonished clucking his tongue.

"Don't you want the others to know? How can they…." He hissed and adjusted trying to reduce the pain. "How can they know how brilliant you are…if I don't…explain it to them." There was a long silence followed by a laugh.

"Alright then, explain it to them. It's only fair that you help them keep up with our intellect." With a trembling hand Spencer went for the water overwhelmed by a sudden intense dry mouth.

"The game strategy…he's using….is considered…intermediate..skill level….it has a few defenses…but one will…always win…but it's….unpopular...inelegant." he began gulping the last of the water unable to slow himself down. He had wanted to make it last, not knowing when he would get another, but he was losing control the more his injuries accumulated and blood loss increased.

"And tell them why it is so unpopular Dr. Reid. If we're going to share information we should be detailed."

"It's…unpopular…because you sacrifice…almost all…your pieces to lure…your opponent….into the trap." He put his head on his knee again, eyes drifting shut but not sleeping.

"Indeed, it's a messy way to play chess, a bloody battle if there ever was one. But you still have room to decide. What strategy will you use? Take the risk of the guaranteed checkmate but at the cost of all those pieces or risk losing and avoid the bullets? Which will you choose Dr. Reid? Your game so far has been ambiguous. You have not committed yet." Reid opened his eyes again and looked up to where Hotch was crouched a new message on the board.

_Play Cautious, We're making progress_

His phone beeped with a message. He ignored it waiting for the unsub's next move. This time as he waited he kept his chin supported by his knee needing to conserve his waning strength. His phone kept beeping distracting him.

"Tell me Dr. Reid, who is trying to reach you? Surely everyone who cares about you knows your plight." It was a struggle to get his phone from his pocket without jostling the bullet wounds but he managed finding texts from his father.

_Chess this weekend?_

_Are you there?_

_Spencer?_

_Have I offended you somehow?_

_Spencer?_

_Are you okay? Are you on a bad case?_

Spencer smiled a little at his father's messages. He was trying so hard to mend fences. There had been vague, joking talk of a possible father son road trip though Spencer was afraid to make that kind of commitment.

"Tell me the messages Dr. Reid." Spencer set his jaw both angry and determined. His relationship with his father was new and fragile and he had no intention to share it with this killer.

"You know what…if you…want to see the messages….get the phone and look….yourself." Without warning he threw the phone hard watching it skitter off in Rossi's direction. He could sense as his team held their breath around him.

"Rook to E5." There was a collective sigh. He moved the piece as quickly as his strength allowed not wanting to push his luck. He chewed his lip trying to manage his frayed nerves. He only had a few moves before he had to commit to a final game strategy. He knew the team wanted him to play by the most cautious of games but he couldn't help weighing the pros and cons. He had two bullets in him already and the guaranteed strategy would cost him eight more. He was mad for even considering it he knew and the team would reject it without thought. Surely the man would want to keep him alive to the last piece and force himself to avoid serious arteries. It would buy the team lots of time to find this guy. "Pay attention Dr. Reid!" the shout startled him from his unrealized drifting.

"What?" he shook his head trying to clear it.

"It's your move Dr. Reid. Pay attention." Spencer looked at the bored but the pieces were a bit blurry. His mind suddenly went blank. He couldn't remember his strategy. He looked over to Hotchner blinking a moment before the new message registered.

_Name is Sebastian Jones_

"What's your….hurry…Sebastian?" There was another long silence before he laughed.

"Figured out who I am eh? No matter, make your move or take another bullet Dr. Reid. I bore of your stalling." Reid looked back to the game hand hovering over the pieces, scrambling to pick a strategy. "Tick tock tick tock Dr. Reid you have ten seconds." Sebastian reloaded his gun unnecessarily, exaggerating the sound so his victim could hear. Spencer moved hurriedly panicking the moment after realizing he'd made a mistake. His piece was lost and the bullet shattered bone below the knee. He hit curled into a ball with a keening moan, hands clenched only to go slack a moment later. He lay completely still letting sound and sight wash over him in a distant haze, the arriving media horde lost upon him.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: It's so nice to get reviews! To hear from my readers is so much fun! I guess it was just a glitch for chapter six and no one was getting posted. Oh well. Two more chapters after this. **

Chapter 8

Hotch sat tense struggling to contain his fear. Eight hours had passed since Jones had fired the first shot. He'd been forced to watch helpless on the sidelines as heat exhaustion plagued Reid then shock and pain with every bullet hit. He got weak fast after the shot to his shoulder as the bleeding continued well over half an hour. He had Garcia tracking their game and its progress. Over the last hour she'd spotted mistakes made by Reid as he unwittingly wavered between strategies. He spoke in a wispy slightly slurred speech, not that he noticed, and his hands shook constantly now. He would go completely silent and unresponsive, even to Jones for increasing lengths of time then suddenly react again unaware he'd ever stopped. They needed to get to him soon but the body of a local agent not far behind Reid reminded him why they couldn't get him. Now he was sprawled on his side plagued by subtle sporadic movements and erratic breathing. The bullet wound was centered about halfway between knee and ankle Hotchner guessed by the bloom of red on the pant leg. He was still bleeding steadily though it didn't gush, giving them little relief.

"Hotch we've got a problem!" he turned towards a commotion getting louder and closer fast.

"Let me go! Let me go I want to see him! Where's my son!" he cringed recognizing Diana as she flailed and fought back the agents trying to force her back behind the line.

"Ma'am please you can't be here." They tried to get a grip on her but she was slippery and they couldn't get her.

"You keep away from me! My son where is he? Spencer! Spencer!" Hotch cringed seeing her suddenly mace the two agents closest to her, driving them back.

"Mrs. Reid please calm down, I'll answer all your questions." Rossi brokered holding her elbow lightly.

"Don't you to tell me to calm down! I don't know you! Where is my Spencer? You can't keep him from me! I saw the news! You can't keep me from my Spencer!"

"Mrs. Reid you can't go out there!" she tried to dive passed Rossi and the other agents but Dave grabbed her arms firmly and dragged her back into the shelter behind the car.

"I flew out here for my Spencer! I flew here for him and you are not keeping him from me!" she screeched blasting everyone around her with mace. Diana bolted nearly reaching where Spencer lay on his side, seemingly unaware, when Hotch sprung into the fray getting her around her waist and hauling her backwards.

"Mrs. Reid stop! You aren't going out there." Hotch snatched up the mace from her even as she tensed to use it again and threw it as far from them as he could.

"No, I have to get to my boy!" she squirmed less fervently being held back by someone she recognized now.

"Mrs. Reid please we need you to leave the area, it's not safe here." Hotch guided her further into the police perimeter.

"No, I flew here, I flew here for him!"

"M-mom?" they both turned seeing Reid partly sitting up, weaving heavily, bleary eyed and confused. Spencer scrabbled to catch up with reality. He'd been drifting in and out cold and exhausted, ignoring the badgering of Jones to get back to the game when his mother's voice cut through the fog.

"What's this? Is this your mother I'm seeing? How exciting!" Jones taunted feeling a thrill at the unexpected arrival of his victims mother, especially seeing her cut through their crowd with what he suspected with a pepper or mace spray. She was feisty and he liked it.

"Hotch…get her out of….here." Spencer pushed himself up further with a groan keeping his right leg out straight. The bleeding had stopped for now but he thought that status was tenuous at best.

"Mrs. Reid you need to leave."

"No Agent Hotchner, she stays."

"Hotch you get her…out…now."

"Agent Hotchner I won't harm her, it's in his best interest you let her stay."

"Please Hotch…"

"Quiet Dr. Reid, I don't want to have to shoot you again so soon. You still have to play the game."

"Hotch…get her…out…worth a….bullet."

"What's going on? Why is Spencer out there? I flew out here for him. Spencer!"

"Mom….leave…please….go."

"No I'm not leaving! You can't make me leave! You hear me you bastard! I'm not leaving my Spencer out there! I'm going to get you!" she bellowed up at the buildings.

"Hotch! Please." Aaron grabbed hold of Diana again this time shoving her into a car ordering the nearest officer to take her to the office and keep her there.

"Agent Hotchner you keep her here you hear me? Hotchner!" A bullet cracked against the car bumper with Diana in it followed by two more across the broad side. "You bring her back!"

"Hey Jones you bastard leave my mother out of this! Hey you hear me! You deal with me!" Reid shouted in a burst of adrenaline desperate to get the attention off his mother knocking the chess board away, the pieces scattering far and wide apart.

"You stupid little…" Reid screamed as a bullet tore through the first wound in his leg and then another into his shoulder.

"Reid!" Morgan shouted rushing out without a thought, "Reid!"

"Morgan!" Hotch hollered. Morgan staggered a bullet striking the side of his knee but he wouldn't be stopped skidding to a stop in front of Spencer. He yanked him off the ground and pressed him against his chest trying to keep him shielded from the shooter as Jones shot wild consumed by rage. The sudden silence was overwhelming. No one seemed to breathe afraid to break the cease fire. Morgan risked looking down at Spencer, blood spreading fast, tears from pain streaking his face despite how tightly he clenched them.

"Spencer you with me?" he didn't get an answer but he could feel Reid's hand grip his sleeve like a vice. He was shaking so hard Morgan thought he would go to pieces. Up close he could see the subtle scarring around the corners of his eyes and the thin white along his chin, made by Chadwick and Chaplin, and felt saddened. They'd done a poor job of protecting him and now they'd failed again. He could see six bullets in the vest and four holes in his body but two were clearly double shot. They had to finish this fast. He wasn't going to last long in this state. The scrape of plastic on concrete broke his attention from Spencer to see a large first aid kit being tossed to them. He was tentative reaching for it but Jones wrath seemed satiated for now. He pressed thick pads of gauze to the shoulder wound then wrap it tight with more gauze fearful of how quickly it stained. The only thing in the kits was bandages and gauze stolen from other kits. Even then he didn't think there would be enough.

"M-Morg-uuungh" he arched and moaned panting through the pain struggling to squirm away from it.

"No keep still Spencer, I have to finish."

"M-Morgan?" he writhed in distress.

"Shhh, it's okay Reid, lay still." He tied off the last bandage, pausing for a moment before removing Reid's earwig. Jones wasn't going to be a tormentor in his ear any longer. Jones would have to deal with him. "Now what?" he spoke into the mic.

"Now, I have two hostages."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you so much for the great reviews! Hope you like this chapter!**

Chapter 9

He was drifting in and out of awareness. He could tell someone was right next to him but he didn't know who or why they were there. Pain ripped through him making it hard to focus on any one thing. He remembered playing chess with someone he couldn't see, only hear, but he didn't hear them now and he wasn't sure why. He could feel warmth at his back but everything else was so incredibly cold. He wished he could stop shaking, it made the pain worse. He didn't fight as the exhaustion tugged at him.

"Reid, I need you to stay awake." He startled sucking in a breath, eyes opening again. It was a struggle to open his eyes to see the person too blurry to recognize.

"Wha?" His tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth, like he wasn't the one controlling it.

"Stay with me kid." He recognized the voice but he couldn't put a name to it.

"C-cold." He twisted around a little trying to press deeper into the heat behind him

"I know, just hang in there a little longer." He faded again despite Morgan calling to him. Flashes of his mother distressed, angry, yelling about the sniper and talking about flying.

"Mmom?!" he jolted awake again sitting him halfway only to fall back with a cry of pain.

"Hey easy Reid, keep still!"

"Get…get her….out of….here….get…" he slurred confused.

"It's okay she's not here, it's okay Reid calm down." He pushed him back against his chest cringing seeing the shoulder wound begin to bleed again. "Reid stop!" he didn't know if he got through to him or he was just too weak to continue but he went still again. His head tilted up to look at him.

"She…safe?"

"Yeah she's safe Reid, she's not here."

"Y-sure?"

"Yeah, I promise she's not here."

"S'kay" he slipped into semi-consciousness again.

"Damnit. Hotch hurry up he's not going to last."

"We're getting a plan together just hang on a little longer."

"No talking to them Agent Mor…." A hail of gunfire interrupted Jones' correction. Morgan lurched hunching sharply over Reid as a bullet struck the concrete a few feet away, then another shattered a window of the building across from them followed by two buried into the cop cars then it suddenly stopped. The silence was deafening. No one breathed, no one moved, waiting for more shots but they didn't come.

"2183 Kingsbury, floor fifteen, the sniper is dead." Morgan heard over the headset Jones had hacked. He didn't respond at first thinking he had imagined the stranger's voice until he heard Hotch snapping orders and a team break off towards the declared building.

"Jones? Jones?" Morgan tried tentatively but he didn't get an answer.

"Morgan" Derek jumped not having seen Hotch approach, "Jones is dead it's confirmed. EMT's are a minute away." His hand cupped the side of Reid's face worried by the cold clamminess and his lack of response. There was too much blood and he was too pale. He pulled off Reid's vest just as medics stepped up. They pulled Reid off of Morgan, laying him flat and began working on him, one of them eyeing the shot knee.

"It's nothing." A second ambulance arrived and they didn't accept his excuse, tending him despite his protests.

"Cooperate Morgan, you're going to the hospital now, not later." He folded his arms with a scowl but gave no further argument.

"Rossi go with them?"

"I've got em Hotch. I'll call when we know." He watched the trio leave then turned back to the scene feeling sick to his stomach seeing their blood smeared on the concrete. They had made a real mess of things. They should have found Jones far sooner instead they let him keep ahead of them and now they didn't even know who had found and killed Jones. His attention was pulled by the soft sound of sobbing around the corner away from the crowds. JJ stood, the side of her hand pressed to her mouth struggling to keep silent.

"JJ."

"We're supposed to be one of the best Hotch, among the top teams."

"JJ"

"But we can't stop one sniper. Another unsub has to find and neutralize him." He stood in silence waiting for her to say her piece. "We're the best but we can't even protect one of our own!"

"I know JJ. We messed this one up big time."

"The bastard even used his family to torment him and we were _right there_ just letting him!"

"We'll fix it JJ. Reid's tough."

"Yeah and by the time we do what'll be left of Reid?" Hotch didn't have an answer. They headed over to Jones' sniper nest surprised by how much farther out it was compared to the previous sites.

"This doesn't match the other sites." JJ noted circling around the room.

"No it doesn't. The building is actively used. He could have been found by an employee at any time."

"And there's a silencer on the gun. That doesn't make sense we could _hear_ the shots." JJ wondered.

"There's probably a recording of the shots set up with speakers closer by to disguise the distance of the shots." Hotch suggested.

"He took a big risk using this location compared to all the measures he took not to be found."

"The challenge was thrilling."

"It looks like he couldn't decide if he wanted to be caught or not in the end."

"The question is who made the decision for him?"

"They're carrying some serious fire power." JJ added noting that half Jones' head was blown to pulp. Hotch's phone interrupted.

"Hotchner, alright I'm on my way. There's trouble at the hospital." He pocketed the phone.

"Reid?"

"No, his mother." JJ bid him good luck but he didn't feel it. When he arrived he was expecting a big scene with yelling and her throwing things in anger but instead she was sitting in a cold controlled silence. The look in her eye put a lance of fear in him. She saw him and still was silent as she strutted to him and slapped him, head whipping hard enough around his neck popped. Rossi lurched forward trying to pull her back a step but got the same.

"You, you're supposed to protect him! He trusted you to take care of him and you let this happen!"

"Mrs. Reid."

"Don't you say anything! Don't you say a single word! Look what you've done to my son!" Hotch wasn't prepared for it as she grabbed him by the ear dragging him into the room waving at Spencer in the bed. He was buried in bandages and wires, deathly pale and still shivering even in unconsciousness. Even without Diana the stab of guilt was overwhelming. "You did this to my Spencer!"

"Mrs. Reid, I…" she shoved him hard.

"Multiple gunshot wounds, cracked ribs, dehydration, heat exhaustion, malnourishment, he's malnourished from long term sickness they said! I trusted you to take care of my Spencer!" with every accusation she shoved him farther into the hall and neither he nor Rossi resisted.

"Mrs. Reid it was beyond our control." This time when she slapped him again Rossi dove in and pushed himself between the two afraid it was going to continue escalating and he could see Hotch didn't have the heart to defend himself against the accusations he felt were true.

"You stay away from my boy! I don't want you anywhere near him! He's done with you! When he's released he's coming home with me. You won't see him again!"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Here we go everyone, the last chapter for this segment! There's more to come and it'll really start to pick up on some of the unanswered questions but it's a longer story over a far longer period of time so I'm still working on it! I'll have it finished and up as soon as I can!**

Chapter 10

He was warm, cocooned by blankets when he woke. He let himself languish in the semi-awareness for a long while enjoying the lack of pain. He could hear something familiar, safe, next to him but he wasn't awake enough to identify. After a while he could smell antiseptics, hear regular beeping and a soft nearby hissing. He opened his eyes sluggishly seeing the white ceiling. He followed the sound to see his mother in a chair at his bedside with a book she was reading aloud. He smiled weakly and let himself slip back into sleep for a time. When he woke the doctor was checking him over, his mother still there with the book in hand, her finger holding her place.

"Mom." he was surprised by how weak he sounded. It was almost as weak as he felt.

"Spencer, my baby, how do you feel?" she ran her fingers through his hair gently.

"Mr. Reid, it's good to see you awake. Can you tell me how you feel?" the doctor interjected.

"Tired and weak, what's going on?" He sat himself up further cringing with diffused intense pain through his shoulder.

"You don't remember what happened? Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital, don't know the name…feeling groggy."

"That's understandable; you've been out for several days now. Let's give you a little more time to wake up. We had you on some pretty heavy sedatives. I'm sure it'll come back to you." He nodded as the doctor left.

"Are you sure you're okay Spencer? You're so skinny lately." He smiled blearily.

"Not skinny."

"You are, you need to take it easier on yourself. You're always in trouble lately."

"It's not that bad mom." He looked at the door wondering at just his mother's presence, partly how she got here at all but also at the lack of his team. He felt an ache in his chest without them.

"Don't lie to me Spencer. First there was that car chase, Chapos…oh whatever his name was and then that paper killer fellow and now this guy with the gun. Don't tell me it's not bad." He sank further into the bed too tired to argue.

"Have my team been by while I was sleeping?" the sudden harsh shift in body language surprised and worried him.

"No, _they_ won't be bothering you."

"What're you talking about Mom? Where's my team? Are they okay?"

"Oh there fine. I just made sure they wouldn't bother you anymore, especially with you coming back with me!"

"Wait what do you mean coming back with you? What did you do Mom?" the i.v drip released another dose of pain medication and he fell into sleep without an answer. He was in and out for the next day, bombarded with questions by the doctor and his mother reading books to him. She was always abrupt and reticent when he asked about the team. He remembered flashes of them outside the door or heated arguments with his mother barring them from the room but he couldn't quite place if they were real memories or just dreams. He woke the next morning with a nurse checking him and his mother not present.

"Excuse me, where's my mother?"

"We told her to check into a hotel and get some food and sleep. We got a call from her doctor explaining her condition. Apparently she had simply left without a word." He nodded.

"Is Agent Hotchner or Morgan here?" he licked his lips repeatedly until she gave him a cup with water and a straw.

"I believe there's an Agent Hotchner waiting outside right now. There's been someone here every day but your mother has forbidden them coming into the room. Is there something you need hun? Are you feeling any pain?"

"No, I'm feeling okay. Can you ask Hotch in here?"

"Sure sweet heart, I'll send him right in."

"Thanks." He was alone only a moment before Hotch entered. Reid frowned seeing his haggard appearance, his eyes with dark circles under and deep worry that only slightly lightened with relief.

"Reid, how are doing?"

"Alright I guess, confused, my mother didn't say much." Hotch gave an odd chuckle which didn't go unnoticed by Spencer.

"How much do you remember?" Hotch settled heavily in the chair cradling a coffee which Reid looked to longingly.

"I remember Jones, the shooter, and a chess game? It's a bit fuzzy. I can't think why my mother is here. She seems…mad but I don't know what's wrong."

"Yes, your mother. She saw the news reports and slipped out of the hospital to hop plane here and save you. She blames us for what happened to you, before and with Chaplin and Chadwick."

"She worries a lot. She didn't cause too much trouble did she?" Hotch gained another almost forced uncomfortable grin.

"She slipped this on my desk a few nights ago." He handed over a printout which Reid realized was a typed up resignation, his resignation from the BAU, and what looked like his signature.

"I didn't sign this Hotch, I swear. I don't want to leave."

"I know Reid."

"This is actually impressive though."

"Yes,, your mother can be impressive when properly motivated."

"What happened to the shooter? I think I heard him called Jones?"

"Sebastian Jones, we found him dead, shot in the head point blank. Evidence indicated it was probably with a sawed off shotgun and he had a penny shoved into his mouth." Reid scowled.

"Another unsub killed him, and left a penny in his mouth?"

"That's what we're finding right now."

"So there's another serial killer out there?" his eyes began to dip, sleep pulling at him.

"Maybe."

"And he killed Jones before he could kill me?" It was getting harder to stay awake.

"That's what it looks like. Sleep Reid, we'll get this figured out." He didn't object feeling exhausted, eyes drooping fast.

"M-kay, as long as it doesn't…have to do with…me."


End file.
